


Ducklings

by FreelancePlatypus



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Ducks, F/M, its not explicit or graphic or dark its just acknowledged that it happened, killian would love ALL THESE DUCKS, so many ducks, spoilers for episode 48
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 23:39:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreelancePlatypus/pseuds/FreelancePlatypus
Summary: Why does Magnus carve so many ducks? It's probably because of his really sad and tragic backstory, you know, like everything else with this guy.





	

It was a slow day. One without monsters to fight, or insanely powerful artifacts to collect. The Director had even said not to bother with training today, something about renovations after a serious mistoss of Carey by No.3113. So, the boys found themselves gathered together in the common area of the dorm, a below the surface habit that had them all subconsciously drifting to one another. Merle had his hands lightly clasped over his chest, eyes closed, slow breathing suggesting he had been dozed off for the better part of an hour. Taako was copying down spell notes, or recipes? It was honestly hard to tell and the two tended to overlap in the piles of messy journals and repurposed tomes he kept. Meanwhile, Magnus slowly carved away at a piece of wood, eyes off somewhere else, softly humming a melody. Taako lazily looked over at the soft piece of wood taking shape.

"What's with you and ducks my man?" Magnus seemed to startle out of his thoughts as he looked down at the piece in his hands, where the crude shape of a duckling had begun to form.

"Oh." He, laughed softly to himself. "I don't know. It's just something I do. Don't really need to think about it. They're easy enough." Taako turned back to his scrawling, happy enough with the answer. Magnus's eyes fell back down to the carving, as his thumb dug in roughly to form the curve of a bill.

 

\-----6 Years Earlier-----

 

"Unless you've suddenly started adding 13 sticks of butter to everything we've been eating I'm fairly certain I'm pregnant." Magnus felt his hands run cold as all of his blood ran to his heart, feeling it swell at the news. Julia, his amazing Julia, was pregnant. He was going to be a father. Julia would be a mother and him, a dad and together they would have...a child.

"Magnus? Sweety, are you ok?" Julia's concerned features came into focus and Magnus couldn't help but laugh, in fact he couldn't do anything else, but laugh. Cry? Oh yes he was definitely crying. He lunged forward, taking Julia in his arms. "Oh Magnus, if I knew you were going to be such a sap about this I would've waited until we were somewhere exceedingly public. The great Magnus Burnsides, hero of Ravens Roost, sobbing over a baby." But she held onto him tightly, tears of joy welling in her eyes too.

From that moment on, between commissioned pieces and little rest, Magnus spent every moment trying to prepare for the baby. An old storage room cleaned out, rugs, blankets and small decorations purchased from all the local shops. Any time he saw children clinging to the skirts of shopkeepers he'd ask about parenting tips, keeping a notebook stuffed in his pocket filled with home remedies, nursery songs and small games.

The first thing he carved was a wooden crib. He knocked it out after a restless 5 days, the wood grain smoothed to a glossy, cherry red finish. It was breathtaking. Julia took to carving small vines along the spindles, daisies and lilac blooming from the stems. At the foot of the bed she carved a small duckling resting in a pond.

"Why a duck? It should be a raven, for Ravens Roost!" Magnus questioned.

"Ravens aren't cute Magnus, ducklings however, ducklings and babies are cute." She corrected as she slowly etched away soft feathers and lily pads.

And so Magnus began carving ducks. He was familiar with doors, walking sticks, tables and chairs, but it was Julia whose strong hands and long fingers carved out individual flower petals and intricate Celtic knots. And so the first few, or twenty, were clunky and had sharp angles where curled tail feathers should be. The next set came out smooth and identifiable, but rather plain in Magnus's opinion. So he had Julia show him how to carve out feathers and round eyes. This step had Magnus hunched over for hours at night, lit only by the fire as he tried and tried again, feeding the flames with each failed waterfowl. It wasn't until several weeks had passed before he slowly turned a small, basswood duck in his hands, softly smiling at the finished product. Six more ducks followed, all identical and perfect. Too perfect, too identical. And so Magnus scrapped them. He took to carving each duckling from a different type of wood, giving them all a unique color, but it still was not good enough for a child of his. He was a wood carver for gods sake! He visited the hedge wizard down the road, payed them a small sum of gold and a new walking stick to enchant the ducklings to quack.

When he presented them to Julia she questioned "Magnus, between a crying baby and quacking ducks I don't think we'll ever sleep again." He agreed and they tried not to feel horrid as they listened to the quacks of the wooden ducklings amongst the crackling of the flames. He carved another set, whose feet spun and walked, and tossed them. A set who were hues of green, purple, blue and red, but still too simple, and burned as well. Set after set of ducklings, a pile of kindling that grew to be nothing but chipped bills and failed wings. One night, one tireless night, 5 ducks deep, Magnus carved away at a duck, larger than the ones he had before, a relief from the weeks worth of tiny detailing. The wood grain gave the suggestion of freckling across its feathers, a ruffled collar adorned it's neck and it wore a simple bonnet scarf over its head. Julia came up behind him, looping her arms around him. "Ha, what's that supposed to be? Me as a duck? Kinda weird, Magnus." She kissed him on the head and drifted off to bed as he slowly turned the duck over and over again in his hands.

He kept the Julia-duck. And slowly a small Steven duck joined it, with a smithing apron and tongs tucked between its wing. The next duckling had an amazing set of sideburns, maybe a little bigger than Magnus's own, but Julia didn’t comment. A duckling with a tray of sweet rolls and a chefs hat, one with glasses and a book, one with a pickaxe, ducklings who slowly took on the appearance of those around Magnus in Ravens Roost. The people most important to him, the people of his home, his future child's home. The dresser was soon lined with these ducklings, all centered around the mother duck, the Julia duck, as they both still called it. And Magnus smiled as he held Julia close, both admiring his handiwork.

Julia breaks the silence "Ok. So we have a crib and we have ducks...that's what? Two of the five requirements for a baby?" And Magnus breaks away in a panic because he still had so much to do, they'll need a rocking horse for sure, and a small stepping stool for when they're older but can't reach the shelves and oh gods what about shelves! And a rocking chair, they'll certainly need a rocking chair...maybe something that smells nice to help put the baby to sleep easier?

Three weeks later, Raven’s Roost crumbles. Splintered ducklings indistinguishable from shattered support beams and the broken furniture that Magnus desperately digs through.

 

\-----Present Day-----

 

Magnus puts the final touch on the curved horn of a ram’s mask that oddly sits on the head of the duckling he holds in his hands. It’s carved from cherry wood. He gently sets it down next to the one carved from the same block that wears a ravens mask. Together they sit amongst countless others, with wide brimmed wizards hats and umbrellas, flower coated feathers and missing right wings, feathered caps and violins, one for each important person in Magnus’s new home. A home he wishes his child could see, people he wishes they could’ve met.

**Author's Note:**

> Well there you have it. The first fic I have ever written. Because of this please let me know if I should tag anything else or any other suggestions! I hope you liked it though :)


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